Monday, 28 January 2013

Salvation Army, Edinburgh City Corps

You’d need a heart of stone and a complete absence of
scruple not to admire the Salvation Army. They work hard and they do good,
they’re not afraid to get their hands dirty, and they provide comfort and
support to some of the most broken and damaged in our society … and God knows,
any of us could be just a financial setback and a bad decision or two away from
destitution.

It turns out the Salvationists are also lovely, friendly people,
and genuinely delighted to welcome newcomers to their Sunday worship. I was
only one of three such outsiders and it was handshakes all round, though I
really hadn’t expected a hug into the bargain. Altogether it was a doughty band
of 30-odd, more than half of them in uniform, and for the first time in my Soul
Search mission I sensed that I was among a group thoroughly united by
long acquaintance and common purpose, and the stronger for it, as was evident
from their “how-do-you-do? testimony”, in which they prompted one another to
stand up and talk about their faith, whether at length or with a simple
“happily walking with God”.

The music was good, as I’d expected it would be. After all,
why should the devil have all the best tunes? Hymns were accompanied either by
brass band or piano, and there were songs by both adults’ and children’s
choirs. I’d never before been to a service where the leader stopped the band in
the middle of a hymn in order to read out selected verses, but it seems to make
sense if you want to emphasise a particular point before resuming. There were
some old favourites – the Old Hundredth, Walk in the Light, and How Sweet the
Name of Jesus Sounds, which prompted an “Ain’t that the truth!” from worship
leader Envoy Bert Kidd – and singing was generally lusty.

The service opened with a reminder that homelessness is a
crisis which Christians are called to address, and with an invitation to a
special service later that day on the same theme. In keeping with this, the
sermon, by Envoy Pat Kidd, was on “setting the captives free”, with reflections
on Matthew 17:17-19 and John 11:38-44 and on William Booth’s Vision of the Lost.

With suitably military precision, the service finished at
exactly mid-day, followed almost immediately by an unscheduled fire alarm, much
to the amusement of the Sunday school children who it seems had just been
singing a song called “Church on Fire”. But thankfully it proved to be a false
alarm.

Could I do what the Salvationists do? Could I be like those
in Booth’s vision who “actually jumped into the water, regardless of the
consequences, in their passion to ‘rescue the perishing’?” No, I can’t see
myself ministering to drunks and prostitutes; I’d be scared out of my wits, and
I know I don’t have the kind of faith that can override that. Would I worship
with them again? Yes, I probably would, and they’re the first of my Soul Search
churches of which I can say that. I left with the band’s final hymn tune still
running though my head:

Courage, brother, do not stumble

Though thy path be dark as night.

There’s a star to guide the
humble,

Trust in God and do the right.

Those lyrics sum up the Salvation Army perfectly. Their
faith isn’t brash or vainglorious; it’s humble, practical and driven by their
trust in God. I couldn’t do it, but thank goodness they can.